


Dreaming of you hurts

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bottom Lee Taeyong, But not quite, But not quite either?, Canon Compliant, Demon Lee Taeyong, Dubious Consent, Except for the demon, Frustration on every side including mine, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Oblivious Lee Taeyong, Sad Mark Lee (NCT), Succubi & Incubi, Top Mark Lee (NCT), Unrequited Love, Waiter I think there's some Comfort in my Hurt?, mad city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “You’ve grown up so much, Mark.”He’d thought, that Taeyong was drunk. That that must have been the cause for the way his hand slid over his stomach, dipping slightly under the waistband of his underwear.“Believe me, I’ve noticed.”
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Dreaming of you hurts

It wasn’t Taeyong. He was sure of it.

Maybe the first time he'd encountered The Thing, it had managed to fool him. But that was only because he just couldn’t comprehend, that something like it existed. That it was in his head, feeling so real, talking to him, lying in his bed, touching him.

He’d only been confused at first when he'd heard Taeyong’s voice that night. When he'd crawled into his bed and whined about how much he missed the younger Mark. He'd thought it was unusual but not that it was … was whatever he knew it was now. 

When The Thing had continued talking, he'd known that something was just wrong, so wrong. The skin of the arms, that clung to him, felt pleasant, but off, just like the tone of the familiar voice coming out of its mouth. 

“You’ve grown up so much, Mark” 

He’d thought, that Taeyong was drunk. That that must have been the cause for the way his hand slid over his stomach, dipping slightly under the waistband of his underwear. 

“Believe me, I’ve noticed”

The way he'd looked at him with this clouded over, wrong, wrong, looking eyes.

“Such a big boy now, right, Markie?”

It looked like Taeyong, it sounded like him, it felt like him. But there was something off, about the way he moved and talked. Something was missing in his eyes, replaced with a foreign glint, that just didn’t belong to him.

Mark did believe in ghosts and the like. But knowing about their existence and having one seemingly in his bed, were two completely different things. It scared him, but honestly not as much as it probably should have.

It wasn’t Taeyong, wasn't even real but it was a perfect imitation of him.  
And he could pretend it were Taeyongs hands, which were touching him like this, Taeyongs voice telling him those things, Taeyongs eyes staring at him, clouded over with lust.

“Mark, don’t you get lonely?”

Taeyongs fingers sneaking inside his underwear, getting closer and closer …

“It must be really hard for you. And I really want to help. I don’t want you to feel lonely. I know how hard it is…”

Taeyongs face buried in the crook of his neck.  
Taeyong’s lips moving against his skin.

He'd heard of Incubi and Succubi, demons that slept with humans at night and drained them of their life force. He should’ve been fucking terrified of having one with him, yet the fear somehow remained distant in the back of his mind.

Mark had to be such an easy target. 

“Can I help you, Mark? I can show you what I do when I’m lonely. Do you want to see?”

Pretending it was Taeyong was so fucking easy. The first time and all the times after it.

And he kept giving in. Kept waiting in excitement for it to appear in his dreams. Even though he drowned in guilt and fear and shame, whenever he saw the older rapper the next day, smiling at Mark so fondly.

He didn’t know when exactly he'd started to feel this way towards the elder. He’d always admired him, for both his talent and his kindness, and he’d always thought that he was beautiful, but everyone with a functioning brain did so.

And when they first started to practice their performance for Mad City, the part where Taeyong grabbed his neck and pushed their foreheads together-They were both exhausted, just quickly going over it, at 1 am in the practice room- it didn’t mean anything to the leader, was just some fanservice, and at first Mark thought of it that way as well.

But when he got this close to him, his head suddenly felt dizzy with the way Taeyong smelled, the warmth radiating from his skin.

Maybe it was just Mark being tired, a little touch starved, a little sexually frustrated from the limited privacy that came with sharing a dorm with that many men. Maybe it was the way Taeyong starred at him so intensely, as if he was going to devour him, lowered himself a little so that he was looking up at the younger. His perfect face even more breath-taking up close.

Kissing Taeyong wasn’t a conscious decision. It somehow just happened. 

And it felt so right, Mark genuinely thought that he'd start crying.

The elder was completely unmoving, frozen in surprise, with his hand still on the back of his neck, as the younger pressed even closer to him, making him stumble back a few steps. Time seemed to both slow down and speed up. He didn't know how many seconds passed until Taeyong got over his shock and gently pushed him away. 

“Mark?”

He looked at him with concern, holding Mark back with his hands as the boy tried to push closer again, to get back to the soft lips and the warm feeling in his stomach. 

“I think we should go home now.” There was a bit of fond amusement in his gaze, looking at him as if Mark was just a confused, unruly child, that simply didn’t know any better.

He wished that wouldn’t hurt this much.

They never talked about it.

He just avoided looking into Taeyong’s eyes during that part in Mad City, as if his life depended on it, and ignored the sting in his abdomen, whenever the older smiled at him.

But Mark thought a lot about how good kissing Taeyong had felt like. So incredibly warm and safe and right. He wanted to do it again. 

The older rapper on the other hand seemed to start treating him even more like a child. The day after the kiss, he’d told Mark that he really needed to sleep more.

“You’re so cute and silly when you’re sleepy.”, he’d said, and the boy had wanted to cry again.

It was unfair. So fucking unfair, because Jaehyun was only two fucking years older than him. 

And he’d walked in on them before, he’d heard them before at night. Taeyong just let himself be manhandled, tears streaming down his face and begging for more, by someone who was only two fucking years older than Mark.

But when the younger rapper kissed him, he thought it was just cute and silly. Cute and silly. He felt like screaming.

He was always exhausted the next day. It appeared in his dreams every night, and every time it felt as if he hadn’t slept at all when he woke up. Not just that, it felt as if it took something from him. Drained him.

The others noticed it too. He kept making more and more mistakes during dance practice and recordings, got quieter and more distant. It was apparent, that he was losing sleep and the other members even the managers asked why, but what was he supposed to say? They offered to get him sleeping pills, but Mark knew they wouldn’t help. He wouldn’t take them, if they'd do either, because he didn’t want The Thing to go away. 

It wasn’t real, wasn't Taeyong but kissing it felt almost as good as kissing him had. And it let him do so much more to it, did so much more to him.

Johnny once just casually told him, while they were a little drunk, that he kept waking up to Taeyong fingering himself. 

He didn’t know what he'd do if he was in the same room as him, while it happened. He’d like to say he’d be as bold as Johnny had told him he was; that he’d tell Taeyong he looked good fingering himself open, watch as he got more and more desperate, hold eye contact, smiling smugly, while he just whimpered and writhed. 

The Thing was aware that Mark knew he was just dreaming, that it wasn’t the one, whose appearance it imitated, and it was clear in the way it sometimes talked.

“Do you want to see what Taeyong does at night, that makes him sound like that? I can tell you what he thinks about, do you want that, Mark? To know what gets him to cry out like that?”

It seemed like a cruel form of mockery. That it sometimes didn’t even pretend to be Taeyong. Was so confident that he’d stay, because it was just a perfect copy of Taeyongs body. Felt and looked so incredibly real. And so, Mark would still push Taeyongs body down on the bed, still spread Taeyongs legs open, still fuck into Taeyongs throat, still let Taeyongs voice whisper lies into his ear. Although it wasn't him, wasn't real. It wasn't and he hated it.

The real Taeyong came to Mark’s room, looking concerned, two … maybe three, four (?) weeks after The Thing had started appearing.

It was weird to see him in his room, to look at their leaders’ face, when just a few hours ago he’d dreamed of it staring up at him open-mouthed, cum covering the skin, the tongue, kneeling in the same place he stood now.

The rapper looked serious.

“Mark, I know that you’re extremely stressed with all your schedules. I know it’s a lot, way too much. But you’ve had … you’ve been this overworked before, but it has never been …not this bad.”

Taeyong was trying to act calm, but there was a bit of panic in his voice.

“Is there anything going on? Anything on your mind? That you want to talk about or that we can help you with, that I can help you with? Whatever it is, please just tell us, tell me.”

He took the youngers hands in his, looking at him with an almost desperate urgency. 

Had it really gotten that bad?

“If you need a break, I’ll talk to the company. You need to care about your health. At least a little bit, Mark. You need to let us help. I’ll help you, if you just ask for it.”

Had Mark really made them worry this much? 

“Do you remember when I kissed you?” Mark regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“When …" Taeyong looked confused. "Mark that was ages ago. You were tired and frustrated and … it didn’t bother me. I honestly thought it was kind of cute if anything. Don’t worry I’m not mistaking it for anything more than it was. I honestly almost forgot about it. It wasn’t a big deal.” 

The youngers eyes got blurry again. Why was he such a cry baby?

“If you’re- Are you worried about missing out on relationships? Because I know we have a dating ban. But you can just, you know, keep it casual, and there are plenty of girls, who-“

“Never mind” He didn’t want to cry, but he just couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “I’m just tired.”

He forced a smile on his face.

“I’m really tired, hyung.”

Having Taeyong, having the real Taeyong in his bed, hugging him, felt better than it did with The Thing. But it stung the same way.

The older rapper kept stroking his hair, telling him that everything would be okay, and it made Mark feel so fucking guilty.

If he knew what he dreamed about, happening in this bed for the past weeks, he’d be disgusted. He’d hate him.

“I have nightmares” It wasn’t that far off from the truth. “I’m scared, hyung.”

“I’m so sorry, Markie." He didn't deserve the gentleness in his voice. "Should I sleep with you? Maybe it’ll help. I’ll wake you up if I notice anything. Then you don’t need to worry. I’ll make it better, okay?”

Taeyong was so nice to him. And he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve his eyes looking at him so fondly, for him to let him sob into his shoulder like this. 

“You don’t have to tell me what they’re about if you don’t want to. They’re gonna go away soon. I’ll make them disappear so don’t worry, Markie.”

Having Taeyong sleeping next to him hurt as much as it comforted him. 

He didn't dream about The Thing that night.

“You look a bit better today.” Jaehyun seemed relieved, but Mark didn't miss the bit of annoyance in his tone. It was definitely justified. He'd slowed all of them down. 

“Yeah, I … I just had nightmares. And I couldn’t really sleep well."

Mark should probably eat breakfast. He hadn't eaten properly in the last weeks at all, now that he thought about it. Hadn't really cared.

"But it was better today. Taeyong slept in my bed. It helped a bit”

Maybe some fruit would be good. Vitamins and stuff. He definitely hadn't gotten a lot of those lately.

“But Taeyong sleeps in your bed every night.”

...

What?

“Although.” The laugh Jaehyun let out sounded joyless. He wasn't looking at Mark, keeping his gaze locked on the apple he was cutting up. “You know to actually sleep, while he was in your bed, was an idea that I could’ve come up with myself.” 

The sound of the knife meeting the cutting board seemed too loud.

“I mean that couldn’t have seriously been it? Not being able to sleep? That’s why we all worried about you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jaehyun still wasn't looking at him.

“The walls are thin, Mark” His smile was smug and yet full of frustration. “But you’ve already noticed that, haven’t you?”

He asked Taeyong not to sleep in his bed that night. And when The Thing came … came in …

It wasn't a dream.

Mark felt nauseous. 

“Why are you angry?”, it asked. “Isn’t it nice to touch his body like that? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

It wasn't an imitation. 

And it felt so wrong. So fucking wrong wrong wrong.

“Or do you want me to leave you alone? Because I can do that if you want. But I won’t leave him. I’ll just make him visit someone else.”

It led Marks hand to its neck, to Taeyongs- to Taeyongs neck, and pressed down on one of the bruises he’d left there, on his warm, real skin. One of the ones he'd thought were from Jaehyun. 

“Maybe I’ll go back to Jaehyun. Or I’ll switch things up. I could go to Johnny again. Or I could have fun with Sicheng.”

Mark wanted to say something, anything.

“Or what about Doyoung? Or what- Oh, what about Jisung? He’d be so good, don’t you think?”

Its gaze was cruel.

“It’s the most fun with you though. With Jaehyun too. It’s better with more emotion involved. But you’re even more pathetic than him. I don’t even have to pretend that it's really him in here with you.”

He wasn’t gonna cry again, he wasn’t gonna cry again, he wasn’t-

“Do you want me to stay, Markie? Don't worry he won't remember this. Unless you want me to make him, of course."

Mark just couldn't stop the tears. And he was sorry- he was so fucking sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, I feel a bit uncomfortable writing about real people but in this house we know that the things you imagine about, and the stories you make up about a person are just that and that you can't make any assumptions about them or their lifes.
> 
> I've had this idea in my head for a while. Cause, you know, demons are great and I love making characters suffer. So I saw my chance to combine some of my interests and I took it. :)
> 
> Please, let me know what you think in the comments! Comments give me serotonin ;-;


End file.
